


i hate you, you turn me on

by rire



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: 30 Day OTP Porn Challenge, Drabble Collection, First Time, Kissing, M/M, Masturbation, Naked Cuddling, Phone Sex, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-26
Updated: 2014-08-17
Packaged: 2018-02-10 13:23:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2026686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rire/pseuds/rire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of unrelated, smutty Shizuo/Izaya drabbles for the <a href="http://curryuku.tumblr.com/post/31830620843/30-days-otp-challenge-nsfw-version">30 day otp challenge</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1. cuddles (naked)

**Author's Note:**

> this is mostly an excuse to get my lazy butt back in the fanfic-writing game (and also bc i love this pairing to death)
> 
> hopefully i can finish all 30 days, but i most likely won't be able to update every day knowing my procrastination habits haha
> 
> (update: discontinued!)

They never cuddled.

It was one of their many unspoken rules, since they’d started doing whatever it was they were doing. A silent agreement, if you will. There was a set routine they followed, and cuddling was definitely not on the list.

It began like this. Shizuo would show up, cracking his knuckles and asking for a fight. Izaya would play along, though they both knew what he was really asking for. It was more interesting that way. The cat and mouse chase that used to be the main event of Izaya’s visits to Ikebukuro had now become the warm-up, the street signs destroyed along the way merely nothing more than a threat. And when the tension reached its peak the streets would fall silent as Shizuo dropped his street sign and Izaya dropped his knife and they fell into each other, fists clenched in the others’ collar and lips tasting of nothing but the other’s sweat and smoke as their feet stumbled along the dark alleyway to Shizuo’s home.

It was hard to pinpoint exactly when their fights had stopped being fueled by the desire to kill. Although perhaps, they never had been in the first place. Perhaps, Izaya had suggested, in a low whisper as the sheets rustled around them, perhaps this had all been an elaborate ruse on Izaya’s part and Shizuo had only played right into his trap. 

As far as how much truth there was behind his statement, well, that was up to Shizuo to figure out. For now, though, it only earned Izaya a narrowly-missed punch in the face, and a few more hits that Izaya purposely didn’t avoid, for the sole reason that they would bruise later and he knew how much Shizuo got off on seeing those marks, even if he didn’t say anything.

Neither of them really said much afterwards. There wasn’t anything to talk about besides how much they wanted each other dead and how much they wanted to fuck the other so hard they wouldn’t be able to walk the next day.

With the topics of sex and murder being taken away, the two of them would lay there, sated but spent, in silence. Until Shizuo got his bearings. Then he would, without a doubt and without exception, order Izaya to get out of his house, out of his sight, and out of Ikebukuro once and for all.

Izaya would get dressed and sneak quickly out before Shizuo regathered the strength to kick him through the door. But he wouldn’t leave without a wink and an unspoken promise.

So it was unusual, to say the least, when the next morning, Izaya woke up to the weight of an arm crushing his ribs and the warmth of legs entangled with his own.

On instinct, his arm shot out towards the nightstand, fumbling open the drawer where he kept his knife, only to find nothing. 

Someone was breathing on his neck.

He tensed up slightly, then turned over slowly to face Shizuo, eyes peacefully closed and mouth hanging slightly open. He’d never seen Shizuo without his brows furrowed or his jaw clenched in anger, without the veins popping on the sides of his forehead. Yeah, anger was a good look on him, but this was different. This expression of complete peace and contentment made him look like a puppy. A very large puppy.

Izaya snickered and reached over to the top of the nightstand, where he vaguely recalled tossing his cell phone last night before things got rough. Sure enough, it was there. He held the phone in front of Shizuo’s peacefully sleeping face and snapped a picture, chuckling to himself. He had to admit that as an information broker, he had much better blackmail material than this. But he just couldn’t help himself. 

Besides, seeing the flustered look on Shizuo’s face later would be worth it.

The shutter sound of the cellphone camera hadn’t been enough to wake Shizuo, apparently. He merely shifted even closer, wrapping his arm around Izaya and pulling him in. Izaya’s mouth opened in protest, but no words came out. He sighed and set the cellphone back on the nightstand. 

Trapped against the warmth of Shizuo’s body, he wondered vaguely to himself if it was worth wriggling out from under the man’s grasp to wake him up and have to face his wrath for overstaying his welcome. But something about the tight grasp of Shizuo’s arm locked around his chest felt strangely welcoming in a way the rest of Shizuo never did and never had.

He looked over at Shizuo. His body was slowly rising and falling with every breath, but he never moved the hand on Izaya’s chest. The faintest hints of a smile graced his lips. Izaya wondered briefly just what he was dreaming about. His brother, maybe? A lifetime supply of pudding?

“Definitely not me,” Izaya muttered to himself with a dry smile, before deciding he may as well get his own shut-eye before facing the inevitable eviction from Shizuo’s bed once he woke up. And besides, he thought to himself as he absentmindedly wrapped an arm around Shizuo, he wasn’t going to deny that having a personal heater right next to him was surprisingly comfortable.

Yeah, they never cuddled, but Izaya supposed an exception could be made every once in a while.


	2. 2. kiss (naked)

Izaya never shut up.

He was always running his mouth. Taunting, threatening, provoking words aimed like bullets straight at Shizuo. 

Shizuo hated it.

It wasn’t even just on the battlefield they called Ikebukuro. It was everywhere. Even once they’d gotten back to Shizuo’s place Izaya never ceased his endless taunting.

“What’s the rush? Afraid you’ll come in your pants?” Izaya purred, shooting him a sly smile from his place on the bed as Shizuo pulled off his pants and unbuttoned his own shirt as quickly as he could without ripping the fabric. 

“Shut up, flea,” Shizuo shot back, tugging Izaya’s own shirt off briskly and then getting to work on his belt. The heat pooling in the pit of his stomach was driving him crazy—he wanted Izaya, now.

“Hmm,” Izaya said calmly. Shizuo would’ve been fooled by his calm demeanour if it weren’t for the tent in his crotch. The only proof of how much Izaya himself wanted this. He raised a slender finger and trailed it along Shizuo’s jaw and down his neck, tracing the dip of his collarbone and sending shivers down his spine. “You really do have it bad. How was it, going weeks without seeing me?”

He knew damn well how it was. He knew damn well how badly Shizuo needed this, and yet he wouldn’t shut the hell up. Shizuo knew that Izaya was just stringing him along, pushing him to the breaking point where he’d finally lose it and beg and plead for Izaya to fuck him. Shizuo wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction—he was going into this with his pride intact, no exceptions.

“Peaceful. The city doesn’t reek as much when you’re not around,” Shizuo muttered, but the way he just about ripped Izaya’s pants off said otherwise.

“Oh?” Izaya said curiously, gripping Shizuo’s wrist tightly and stopping him from reaching out towards his already half-hard cock. “I’m sorry to disturb your peace, then,” he drawled. “Maybe I should get going.”

Shizuo was torn between wanting to throw him out the window and wanting to throw himself at Izaya. He didn’t dare to leave, not now. “I’m going to fucking kill you,” was all he managed to say through gritted teeth. 

“And have nothing but your right hand for company?” Izaya clucked his tongue. “That wouldn’t be the smartest decision, even for a protozoan like you. It’s not like you’ve got people lining up to fuck you. Other than me, that is.”

He knew full well that he was taking the bait if he got angry. That was the case with everything Izaya said—simply a ploy, a trap, to get Shizuo riled up. Never a moment without cold sarcasm dripping from his voice, never an ounce of honesty. No exceptions, not even when they were naked and hard. It seemed there was never a way to get him to shut up. 

With Izaya, everything was a battle. Every movement a fight for dominance, every word a contest of superiority, and Shizuo was sick of it. 

He leaned in, pinned his arm against the headboard and pressed their lips together. A moment of blessed silence followed as Izaya responded eagerly, running his tongue along Shizuo’s lower lip. Shizuo opened his mouth, pressing their bodies close and pushing his tongue into Izaya’s mouth, sliding their tongues together. 

It seemed he’d found the solution.

Izaya pulled away and opened his mouth to speak, but Shizuo just yanked him by the hair and kissed him even harder, thrusting his hips and grinding their erections together. Izaya made a delicious noise that resembled a moan and it shot straight to Shizuo’s crotch, spurring him on further. Making sure not to break the kiss, he reached a hand down and wrapped it around their cocks, stroking them together.

Izaya moaned into the kiss, tightening his grip on Shizuo’s shoulders. His face was getting hotter and redder with each flick of Shizuo’s wrist. Shizuo liked Izaya like this—eyes fluttering shut, as quiet as he could ever be, save for the delicious noises he was making. The sounds that translated into words of affection that would never fall from his lips. 

He’d come to realize that silence was the closest thing to honesty that Izaya would ever openly display, the closest they’d ever come to achieving a truce in their everlasting battle. And sex was the closest thing to affection either of them would ever feel for each other.

Yeah, Shizuo thought vaguely, he liked Izaya a lot better with his mouth shut.


	3. 3. first time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so have you guys heard that durarara!! season 2 is confirmed coming out in january 2015??
> 
> ahhh yes, can't wait to hear the famous "IZAAAAAYYYYAAAAAAAA" again. it's like music to my ears

“Ah,” Izaya murmured. “Looks like I’ve reached the end of the road.”

The corner of Shizuo’s mouth curled up in a devious grin as he took the final remaining steps toward Izaya, who was backed up against the wall of a dead-end alley.

“Finally,” he said with a chuckle, tightening his grip on the street sign in his hand. “After all these years, I’ve finally got you where I want you. And there’s no way you’re getting out of this alive.”

It was quite a miracle, really, that Shizuo had ended up winning the chase. After all, he had been out drinking at the bar when Izaya had “happened” to walk by, and thus began the usual chase. But his slightly intoxicated brain didn’t consider the situation odd—just finally being able to beat the shit out of Izaya was making adrenaline rush through him like crazy.

“Oh, Shizu-chan’s so terrifying,” Izaya said sarcastically, eyes wide with false horror. “Gonna kill me now, are you? You know, you’ve thrown around quite a few empty threats before. Every time you see me, in fact.”

Shizuo narrowed his eyes. “Don’t be so sure of yourself. Think you can survive a blow to the head with this thing?” He cocked the sign to one side, eyes widening as he grinned maniacally. “Hah?”

“I have it on good authority that I’ll live until at least tomorrow.” Izaya replied simply, flashing Shizuo that stupid trademark smile that meant he knew something Shizuo didn’t, that meant he had the upper hand. Even though Shizuo knew for a fact that this was far from true. Izaya’s knife had long since been knocked out of his hand, and with neither his trusty flickblade nor an escape route, he had no other weapon. 

“And whose authority is this, huh?”

“Mine,” Izaya said, tilting his chin up, still refusing to go down.

Shizuo was undeterred. The flea was the flea, so of course he’d still be clinging on to his last thread of dignity. But dignity intact or not, Izaya was going down.

“Well,” Shizuo declared, “you can shove your fuckin’ authority up your ass.”

He swung his arm backwards, carefully calculating his strength. Of course he didn’t intend to end Izaya’s life—all he really wanted was to give the damn flea the beating he deserved. For all his talk about hating violence, he did need it on this occasion, simply to kick Izaya out of Ikebukuro once and for all. Because he had to admit that when words didn’t get the message across, violence did work wonders.

But before he could deliver the crucial blow, a hand suddenly fisted in his collar, yanked him forwards and crushed their lips together.

It took all of three seconds for it to register in Shizuo’s mind. And his first thought was—

“What the fuck?” he yelled, shoving Izaya off him and wiping a sleeve across his mouth. Great, now he’d gotten flea saliva on the suit Kasuka had given him. Hurriedly, he wiped his sleeve on the wall. All the while, Izaya watched him, eyes glinting with amusement.

“Was that Shizu-chan’s first kiss?” Izaya said, tilting his head.

“Fuck no,” Shizuo shouted back. “You piece of shit, I’ll kill you—”

Before he could follow through on his word, Izaya had caught him off guard again, leaning upwards and kissing him hard. This time Shizuo went limp with shock, unable to move as Izaya slid his tongue along Shizuo’s lip, curling his fingers in his hair and tugging just enough for it to hurt.

That was the last straw, and Shizuo pushed Izaya aside once again. 

“Ah, but you seemed to be enjoying it,” Izaya said with an impish grin. Shizuo looked into those red eyes, and for the first time he saw beyond that mischievous know-it-all look a hint of something dangerous. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Something he didn’t want to put his finger on.

And maybe he had had one too many beers, because seeing it was making his stomach flip in odd sorts of ways that he’d never dream of associating with Izaya.

“Come on, Shizu-chan,” Izaya said in a more serious tone of voice this time. “Don’t lie to yourself—anyone could see how badly you want this too.” At that, he looked pointedly downwards at the obvious tent in Shizuo’s pants.

“Fuck you,” Shizuo growled. 

“That’s the idea,” Izaya said. The look in his eyes said everything—he’d laid the unthinkable, unspeakable offer on the table, said it loud and clear. And what to do with this offer was Shizuo’s choice now.

Every nerve in his brain was screaming at him that this was a bad idea, but every nerve in his body was screaming at him to give in. He couldn’t do that, he told himself—that would mean Izaya had won.

But he’d never been particularly great at controlling his urges, whether they were urges of violence or other kinds.

And it was definitely the beer talking when he opened his mouth and the words, “Fuck it,” spilled out.

The next thing he knew he was dragging Izaya down the alley back where they’d come, stumbling down the street. As soon as he’d opened the door of his house he slammed the door behind them and pinning Izaya up against the wall. Up close and in the dim moonlight streaming in from the window, the flea looked somewhat ethereal and almost attractive. Attractive enough for Shizuo to press their lips together in a rough kiss.

He could feel the corner of Izaya’s lips quirk up as he returned the kiss with just as much fervour, reaching up with his knife and swiftly cutting a line down from the center of Shizuo’s bowtie to the bottom of his shirt.

He felt the cold air on his chest, then glared at Izaya. “That was from my brother, you flea,” he growled. Even at this point, Izaya was still trying to piss him off.

Izaya cocked his head with false innocence. “Oh? Did I ruin your beloved shirt from your precious Kasuka? Then you’ll just have to get me back, won’t you.”

It wasn’t a question, but a challenge. One that Shizuo would gladly take. A thought floating in the back of his mind told him this was exactly what Izaya wanted, but fuck if he even cared anymore. 

“Oh, I will,” Shizuo growled lowly as he tore off Izaya’s belt and let his pants fall in a pool around his ankles. He wrapped a hand around Izaya’s cold, pale throat, causing the other’s eyes to widen in pleasant surprise. “I’ll make damn sure you can’t walk by the time I’m done with you.”

Izaya gave a low chuckle that turned into a gasp as Shizuo thrust his hips forward, grinding his crotch against Izaya’s through the fabric. He knew the friction of the rough fabric against Izaya’s cock had to hurt at least a little—what he didn’t expect was for the action to be followed by a short laugh.

“So impatient,” Izaya purred, prompting Shizuo to grind even harder against Izaya’s cock. Izaya moaned, grasping Shizuo’s sides and digging his nails in. 

“You just gonna fuck me up against the wall, Shizu-chan?” Izaya said, the only thing betraying his nonchalant tone of voice being the way his pupils were blown wide. “There’s a perfectly good bed right over there, you know.” He sighed. “Although ideally, you should have taken me out for dinner first. You really don’t know much about romance, do you?” 

“Like you’re one to talk.” Shizuo deftly unbuckled his belt and pulled off his pants, then pushed Izaya onto the floor. Finally free of the constraints of clothing, he thrust forward and rubbed their erections together, eliciting another gasp from Izaya.

“The floor? We’re not all animals like you.”

“Shut the hell up,” Shizuo grumbled. He got up quickly and rummaged around in his bedside table. Shit, he had to have some lying around, right? Although, come to think of it, it’d certainly been a while.

“Looking for this?” Izaya took out a small tube from his pocket and waved it in Shizuo’s face. “Aw, so Shizu-chan does care about my well-being after all.”

“If you don’t shut up I’ll fuck you without it,” Shizuo said, but he grabbed the lube from Izaya and poured some onto his fingers, then grabbed hold of Izaya’s legs and pushed them apart, sliding two fingers in right off the bat.

Izaya gasped and squirmed, and Shizuo would be lying if he said that didn’t turn him on far more than he thought it would. It didn’t help that Izaya was making the most undignified sounds as Shizuo thrust his fingers in and out—the sounds shot straight to his crotch until he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Fuck,” he groaned, lining up his cock with Izaya’s hole and pushing it in, drawing a broken moan from Izaya. As he watched Izaya’s eyes squeeze shut in pleasure and his mouth half-open, he realized that this was the first time he’d seen that insufferable smirk wiped off of his face and replaced with something akin to true emotion.

As quickly as it had left, though, that smirk came bouncing right back.

“That all you got, Shizu-chan?” Izaya panted, slipping his hands under Shizuo’s half-open shirt and raking his nails down Shizuo’s back hard enough to draw blood.

Fucking prick. For all Izaya’s talk, he was dead wrong if he thought that sex with Izaya was going to have any resemblance whatsoever to romantic. And he was definitely wrong if he thought that their battle for control was going to stop as soon as they left the battlefield of the city and into Shizuo’s home. This was good, though—this way, he wouldn’t have to hold back.

He thrust harder, burying himself deeper into Izaya, letting out a moan that mingled with Izaya’s groans as he felt the heat of Izaya’s walls clench around him. Izaya sank his teeth into Shizuo’s neck, breaking his skin and drawing even more blood that dripped down Shizuo’s shoulder. In return, Shizuo scraped his nails down Izaya’s chest and left a bite mark of his own on Izaya’s ghostly pale neck.

His blood was boiling and his head was clouded with thoughts of nothing but Izaya, thoughts of how unexpectedly good it felt to be pressed up against his own worst enemy, hearing nothing but the slapping sounds of skin on skin and Izaya’s drawn-out moans that sent shivers down his spine. And from that look in his wide, red eyes, he could’ve sworn Izaya was being so loud just to get on his nerves.

“Harder,” Izaya panted. “Shizu-chan—fuck me harder—”

It was rare, really, that the two of them wanted the same thing. Shizuo was never particularly eager to take orders from Izaya, but this one he didn’t even have to think through before he obliged, hitching Izaya’s knees onto his shoulders and thrusting as hard as he could. By the sound of it, he’d hit the spot—Izaya whimpered and bucked his hips up involuntarily, a litany of ohgodShizuchanohgod falling from his lips as he clawed his way down Shizuo’s back. It was that instant of pain mixed with unbelievable pleasure that drove Shizuo to his climax, filling Izaya to the brim and biting down hard on his shoulder. Izaya followed nearly immediately after, coming all over his stomach with a stutter of Shizuo’s name.

Even after he pulled out and let his come drip down Izaya’s thighs onto the floor he couldn’t bring himself to move from his position on top of Izaya, opting instead to lie there catching his breath. 

“Well,” Izaya rasped, looking up at Shizuo with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Looks like you were wrong, Shizu-chan.”

Shizuo narrowed his eyes. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” he grunted, rolling over and lying next to Izaya.

Izaya nodded his head at the clock on Shizuo’s bedside table. It read exactly 12:00 am. “I did say that you’d let me live until at least tomorrow, didn’t I?” 

Shizuo shot him a glare. “Fuck you,” he said, because there was nothing else to say. As much as he hated to admit, Izaya had won this round. But this was definitely not the end of it, as far as Shizuo was concerned. Not even close.

“Promises, promises,” Izaya tossed back with a wink.


	4. 4. masturbation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in this one they already have an established relationship... the world relationship being used loosely, more like rivals who are also fuck buddies

“Yo, Shizu-chan.”

The voice on the other end of the line responded with just as much anger as Izaya expected. “Oh, you. Why the fuck are you calling me, flea?”

Izaya smiled to himself, rolling over on the bed so he was lying flat on his back. “Because I haven’t been to Ikebukuro in a while,” he said nonchalantly, “and I missed hearing your voice, Shizu-chan.”

His voice was coated with just the right amount of sarcasm so that Shizuo, being the protozoan he was, completely missed just how much truth there was to the statement. “Get to the point,” he muttered.

Izaya sighed. “Well, I figured that since it’s been roughly a week since I’ve gone to visit you, you might’ve gotten bored without me ruining your life. And so I took time out of my busy schedule to do just that. I’m quite the gentleman, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Tch,” Shizuo said, but there wasn’t any real hostility in his voice. “Just hang up and stop wasting my time.”

“You could very well hang up first, you know,” Izaya drawled, slipping a hand under his shirt and tracing circles absentmindedly on his stomach. Shizuo’s voice felt strangely reassuring, relaxing almost. “The fact that you haven’t yet means you’ve been wanting to hear my voice, too.”

“It doesn’t mean anything,” Shizuo countered much too quickly. “’M just bored, got nothing to do.”

“Do me, then,” Izaya whispered, sliding his hand just a little lower, playing with the waistband of his boxers.

Shizuo sputtered indignantly. “What?”

“Just kidding,” Izaya drawled. Shizuo fell silent, and Izaya sighed with exasperation. This was no fun. He closed his eyes and let out a soft sigh as he clicked the speaker button and placed the phone on the pillow next to him. “Ne, say something, Shizu-chan.” 

Shizuo grunted impatiently. “What do you want me to say?” 

Now that both his hands were free, he fisted one hand in his hair the way that Shizuo would whenever they fucked, and snuck the other down his boxers, cupping it around his half-hard cock and stroking it. He bit his lip to stifle a moan. It was almost pathetic, really, how all Shizuo had to do was talk, and it’d turn him on like crazy.

“I don’t really care,” Izaya said off-handedly. “Just keep talking.” 

“Okay, uh.” Shizuo paused awkwardly. “I hate you. Get out of Ikebukuro,” he said almost monotonously, and Izaya had to struggle not to laugh.

“Come on, Shizu-chan. Even you can do better.” 

Shizuo made a sound that vaguely resembled a chuckle, making shivers shoot straight down Izaya’s spine. “Okay, seriously. What do you want?”

Izaya groaned and ran a hand through his hair. Shizuo really was bad at this. “Where are you right now?”

Shizuo sighed, exasperated and slightly confused. “I don’t know why that would matter to you, but I’m at home. Sitting on the bed. Why?” 

Just imagining Shizuo lying next to him, together on the bed, whispering lowly in his ear was enough to make the lazy heat pooling in the pit of his stomach begin to intensify. Izaya flicked his wrist with each upstroke, letting his mouth drop open, forming silent moans that never escaped. “Tell me—what you’re wearing.”

Even though Izaya couldn’t see him, he could almost sense Shizuo blink in confusion. Just thinking about that adorable look on his face made Izaya pick up his pace, rubbing his thumb along the slit. “My bartender suit. What I wear every day. Look, I don’t know what you’re playing at, but—”

A soft gasp escaped Izaya’s lips before he could catch himself. 

It was then that the silence on the other end became thick with tension. 

“Whoops,” Izaya said with a small smile.

“Izaya,” Shizuo said, sounding suddenly wary. “What are you doing?”

“What do you—ah—think I’m doing?” Izaya let out another moan, louder this time. Fuck, he didn’t care if Shizuo knew. “Use your brain for once, protozoan.”

Shizuo stuttered, and Izaya could literally see his face redden with embarrassment. It was so adorable. “Izaya. Don’t you dare. I’m going to hang up now—”

“A—ah,” Izaya gasped, this one not so much a sound of his own pleasure as a ploy for Shizuo’s attention. He heard Shizuo swallow thickly. Knowing that it was affecting the other man just as much, Izaya smirked to himself.

“Fuck,” Shizuo muttered under his breath. “Fuck, I don’t even—”

“Say something, Shizu-chan,” Izaya repeated, but this time there was much more meaning behind it. He was getting close—he just needed a little push and he’d reach the edge in no time.

Shizuo remained silent, but the sound of a belt unbuckling and a zipper sliding down said everything that needed to be said. And then—

“This is stupid,” Shizuo said, but his voice was just a little more high-pitched than usual, and the rustling of the sheets in the background was more than enough to spur Izaya on. “You say something. Tell me… what you’re doing.” 

Izaya lowered his hand to his mouth and bit down on it to keep from moaning out loud. Fuck, just visualizing Shizuo lying there with his hand around his cock, thinking of Izaya, with his face flushed red and eyes scrunched shut in pleasure—that did it for him. “I—I’m on the bed,” Izaya rasped, stroking faster and harder with each word, “touching myself. A—and thinking of you.”

Shizuo gulped, and Izaya heard the sound of sheets rustling. “Fuck,” Shizuo grunted. “M—me too. You’re, you’re here with me, and I’m—fucking you, you’re so good, so tight—”

“A—ah.” Izaya was panting now, moaning unabashedly, feeling a tightness in his lower body that meant he was getting close. He pictured Shizuo on top of him, arms on either side, pictured himself taking Shizuo’s cock, big and thick—with shaky fingers, he reached for the lube he kept in the bedside drawer, spilling it all over his fingers, and slipped one inside himself.

“N—ngh,” he groaned, letting out another gasp as he slipped in another finger and scissored them. “F—fuck, I’m—I’m fingering myself, no—you—you’re inside me, you feel so good—Shizu-chan—”

“Izaya,” Shizuo groaned. “Fuck, Izaya—”

He sounded so close, like he was right there on top of him, right there with him, and it was so hot, so perfect that Izaya was pushed over the edge, coming with a cry of Shizuo’s name, shooting all over his hand and stomach and soiling the shirt that was half pushed up on his chest. Shizuo followed soon after, his moan of Izaya’s name the only sound ringing loudly in the empty room as Izaya lay there, panting and breathless and a complete mess.

“Look what you’ve done,” he breathed. “This was my favourite shirt, too.”

Shizuo let out a short huff. “You wear the same damn shirt every day. That stupid black shirt and that ugly fur coat is all you ever wear.”

Izaya hummed to himself, too spent to even bother cleaning up, and closed his eyes. “Hmm, you’re right, I do need some new clothes. Maybe I’ll have to drop by and borrow one of yours, then.”

He didn’t know what he expected. A scoff, perhaps. A ‘shut the hell up, flea.’ But he definitely didn’t expect Shizuo to mutter a quiet, almost shy, “You’d better.”

“Hm? Say that again?”

He could see Shizuo’s blushing face, clear as day. “You’d better finish your work,” Shizuo growled, “and come back here or I’ll go to Shinjuku myself and beat the shit out of you.”

Much to his dismay, the smile that found its way onto Izaya’s face was a genuine one. For the first time that night he was infinitely glad that Shizuo wasn’t here to see it.

“Hmm,” he said, slowly and deliberately. “I’ll think about it.”


End file.
